


A Craving

by Ladyladielaydee



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Choking, F/M, Gunplay, Just a lil sad, PWP without Porn, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 01:22:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28822890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladyladielaydee/pseuds/Ladyladielaydee
Summary: Reposting from ff.net account, wrote it years ago. Reaper would be happy to just enjoy the silence after their failed mission. But that's never enough for her. Reaper x Widowmaker Smut, pwp, TW for choking, gunplay, rough mean sex. All consensual though, I'd argue. Although Reaper may be reluctant.
Relationships: Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Widowmaker | Amélie Lacroix
Kudos: 9





	A Craving

Reaper sat steaming with anger while taking apart and cleaning his shotguns. There was no reason that they should not have been able to successfully steal the gauntlet. And yet here they were, licking their wounds with nothing to show for it. He kept reviewing the fight over and over in his head, trying to figure out what went wrong. A former member of Blackwatch duped when it came to petty robbery.

"Oh, Reaper," came a French accent from behind him. It had been hours since their failed mission, and up until this point he had been enjoying the quiet humid night. They had taken refuge on top of a building several miles away from the museum. Reaper relished in the silence until Widowmaker just had to speak with that deliberately sultry voice of hers. He ignored her as he continued to take apart and maintain the weapons.

"Hey now, are you ignoring me?" The baby voice she spoke in did nothing to hide the ever present coldness in her tone. Reaper continued his task, wishing for once she would leave him alone.

"I'm busy," Reaper rasped, making it clear he wasn't entertaining her. Not this time.

He hoped she would go back to staring wistfully off into the city like she usually did in their rare free moments. But Reaper jumped ever so slightly when he felt her arms drape over his back and around his neck. His hands froze as he felt Widowmaker's breath on his slightly exposed neck.

"Busy with what?" she cooed. "We've already failed our mission. We have all the time in the world," she whispered into Reaper's ear. Reaper's hands continued where they left off on swiftly dismantling and cleaning. He refused to acknowledge her unprofessional behavior, not again. He continued his work, staring down through his mask.

He didn't acknowledge her touching, even as she pulled his hood back with her teeth. "Come on now," she feigned desperation in her voice, arms tightening around him. "Gabriel,"

Widowmaker barely whispered the name out of her mouth before she was violently grabbed by the throat. They were both on their knees now, Widowmaker's body hung off the ground slightly as Reaper lifted her up. She smirked down at him, yellow eyes narrowed. Reaper growled from under his mask as he pushed her to the ground, wedging his knee between her legs and tightening his grip on her throat. Widow's smirk faded but her eyes stared up at him, a mixture of pleading and challenging. Do it, she dared him.

"Fine," he growled out. "This is what you want?" Reaper yanked her skin tight leotard open to reveal her small and perky breasts.

Now we're getting somewhere, Widowmaker thought to herself.

Loosening the choking ever so slightly he grabbed a perky breast in his other hand, pinching her purple nipple and pulling. Widow let out a weakened moan as she lifted her ass, grinding herself into Reaper's thigh. Reaper's teeth clinched in a mixture of fury and arousal, staring down at her chest. In a hurried impatience he released her throat and quickly yanked the rest of her spandex suit down, taking a moment to admire her perfectly shaved labia. As insufferable of a woman Widowmaker was, her body could make a dead man erect.

With one hand Reaper squeezed her breast with enough strength to hurt her (The way she deserved to be hurt), with the other hand Reaper released her throat to harshly grab her wet folds. Widow practically yelled out a moan as Reaper thrust one ungloved finger into her, roughly rubbing her clit with his thumb. He wasn't trying to romance her, the faster he got this over with the better for the both of them. Widow, already soaking wet, happily took a second finger with ease. Reaper replaced his hand on her throat as he thrust his fingers into her, Widow still pinned against the ground. Her eyes rolled back in pleasure from Reaper's thick fingers in her, she was spread completely open for him, one leg draped over his shoulder.

His fingers moved inside her quickly, Widow felt nothing but bliss. Her muscles flexed to make his fingers feel even tighter inside of her, loving the feeling of struggling to breathe. She felt the world around her spinning from lack of oxygen. She felt like someone else looking down at herself, getting aggressively finger fucked by a masked terrorist. The only word Widow could think to describe this pleasure was intoxicating.

As he pulled his fingers in and out of her he appreciated the state she was in under him. That challenging smirk and cocky gaze now replaced with disheveled hair and moans stifled by his firm grasp on her throat. The eyes of a killer now rolling to the back of her head in an abandonment of all composure. And God did Widow feel good under him. She craved this pain, admired her body's ability to take it, relished the feeling of her pussy absorbing Reaper's fat fingers.

Reaper quickly took his hand from widow's throat to rip off his mask. Widow gasped for air, coughing from the strain of being held down for so long, eyes snapping back upward just in time to watch Reaper grab her chest once more and bite down on her nipple. That was all it took for the building pressure in her nerve endings to explode, she screamed out her orgasm, hands scrambling to clutch Reaper's hair and back. Widow road out her orgasm thrusting herself onto his fingers, pulling at his hair as hard as she could.

Reaper released her nipple and pulled his fingers from her wetness.

"You're enjoying this too much," he said darkly. Before Widow could respond Reaper flipped her over on to her stomach, her ass up and face pushed into the ground. From behind Reaper shoved the fingers he had been fucking her with into her mouth, pulling at her cheek. Without having to be told she licked and sucked his fingers with gusto. She felt Reaper's fingers on his other hand spread her core open, and whimpered slightly. Reaper took a moment to cherish her swollen sex.

Reaper took his time unzipping his pants; now it was a taunt. Widowmaker shook and rubbed her ass on him in impatience, anything to make him hurry. But he slowly pulled his pants down, boxers and all, taking a mental video of her throwing out all self-control, her need for him inside of her. He pulled out his thick member and lined it up with her pursed sensitive lips. What Reaper's manhood lacked in length, five inches, he made up for in thickness.

He gently pressed at first, catching her off guard with teasing prodding. Widowmaker was practically shoving herself onto his cock. Quickly and without warning he finally plunged into her, making Widow gasp in surprise. Reaper used this opportunity to shove his fingers further down her throat. Soon tears began forming in her eyes from gagging, each slow deliberate thrust of his hips drove his fingers into her uvula more. Reaper fucked her in an even pace but hard enough for a loud slap to be heard from his balls connecting with her round ass.

Widowmaker often thought to herself how perfect Reaper's cock was for her insides. It was big enough to stretch her walls and make her burn, but not long enough ram into her uncomfortably. It felt like she was being torn in half in all the right ways. She needed it in her, needed the pain, needed to be touched. How else could she feel alive?

After gagging one more time Reaper pulled his fingers out of Widows mouth and instead pulled her head up by her ponytail. Widow winced in pain, drool running down her face. With his other hand Reaper held her ass still while he increased the speed of his thrusts. Widow let out a string of exhausted moans each thrust he made into her, using her body what it was best for: pleasure. She felt like a dog on all fours, face covered in her own spit and sweat, and body being used like a slave to a master.

Without warning he brought a hand back and slapped Widow's ass with enough strength to leave a bright red burning hand print on her cheek. Widow yelped in surprise and pain. Reaper tugged harder at her hair, beginning to spank her in earnest between thrusts. The slaps echoed across the vacant rooftop. Each slap created a new wince of pain on Widow's face.

There was a slight pause in slaps, causing instant suspicion in Widow. She sensed Reaper pulling his hand back in preparation. She clinched her eyes tight and quivered in fear. He brought the hand down and barely tapped her, causing sobs of anticipation. He rubbed her apple ass gently, and Widowmaker felt like crying. Before she could regain her composure he gave her another hard slap.

Between her scalp being pulled, her pussy being violently fucked, and her burning ass, Widow couldn't focus anymore. Drool dripped down her chin, tongue hanging out, the ecstasy enveloping her body made it impossible for her to make any more noise. Her moans weren't strong enough to come out of her throat. Reaper made one final hard thrust into her tight cunt before pulling out of her and releasing her hair. The quick release of her head made her upper body drop to the ground in fatigue and surprise.

Reaper flipped her body back around, lifting her legs over his shoulders before burying himself back into her folds. Widow watched as his face, Gabriel Reyes' face, closed his eyes in pure pleasure. She took note of the lust in his eyes when he stared at her bouncing tits. Again one of his hands grasped her throat, and Widow closed her eyes. Something felt like this must be coming to an end. The end.

Click

Her eyes snapped open, Reaper's other hand now had a shotgun in it, pointed at her head. She felt a pressure in her chest, excitement and only the smallest amount of fear. One hand on her throat, one hand holding a gun to her head, Reaper penetrating her deeply, and yet her arms lay to her sides. No fight, just accepting everything as it came, feeling bliss from the hopelessness that she craved.

Reaper began fucking her faster, harder and the thrusts came in more erratic burst. He let out a breath, eyes locking onto Widow's yellow irises. There was that dare. He hand tightened on the gun and loosened his grip on her throat ever so slightly. Enough to hear that whimper as her expression turned to one of pain and desperation. Her moans turned to screams, squeezing herself around him, wanting to feel every inch as she felt an eminent release.

Gabriel licked his lips, and squeezed the trigger. Click.

Widowmaker screamed at the top of her lungs a moan. Her canal tightened around him, so wet her pussy was practically squirting as she orgasmed around his shaft. Her walls tightened of their own accord, pumping him unintentionally from a powerful release. Reaper's thrusts became sporadic and he pulled out of her, jerking himself the rest of the way squirting his cum all over Widow's chest and face.

Widow's body still twitched as Reaper tossed her legs off his shoulders back to the ground.

He grabbed her leotard and wiped off his cock before tossing it back on the ground and zipping up his pants. He stood up, his knees feeling the pressure of the last several minutes.

They both knew the gun wasn't loaded. But in the back of his mind, he thought of that look in her eyes when he pulled the trigger. Was that really the look of someone that wanted to live on this earth?

He picked up his other gun and walked several feet away from her used body. Now, without the distractions, he continued his original task. Thinking about what could be improved in their strategy next time, maintaining his weapons to perfectly execute the next plan. Concentrating on preventing future failures.

Widow laid where he left her for what seemed like hours. When Reaper would look up, he would see her amber orbs staring up, no emotion to be found. Eventually she would get up and put back on her wet spandex suit. Eventually she would straighten her ponytail and walk over to the edge of the roof. Eventually she'd be quiet, back gazing at the city skyline with that constant sadness in her eyes. If only it were the end.


End file.
